


Once Upon a Time

by Kate_ (Cronni)



Series: Entries of the Psionic War Campaign [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Blind Character, Drinking, Entries of the Psionic War Campaign, Gen, Old legends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24357205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cronni/pseuds/Kate_
Summary: Aedin tells her group an old legend.
Series: Entries of the Psionic War Campaign [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758601





	Once Upon a Time

So far, they'd been travelling for a whole week, but there was still had two months ahead of them — a consequence of trespassing half of the continent with almost fifty people. It’s wasn’t a big deal — they’re going to become heroes, after all, build a kingdom and take a whole land from evil’s hands — but long travels meant more stops, and more stops meant spending time — and time wasn’t an easy thing to have.

There was no space to turn around and be regretful, though. They have a mission to accomplish.

At the moment, though, the massive group had stopped at a roadhouse, having a deserved break after hours of non-stop walking — time had, unfortunately, needed to be wasted. The main party and leaders of the caravan — Aedin, Max, Nath, Lorius and Strange — were sharing a table with some other folks, having some drinks and chatting, voices slightly raised due to the amount of other voices around them, filling the tavern with life and warmth.

A small kid, probable no older than twelve, chimed in, jumping on one of the free chairs on their table.

“Why don’t you guys tell us a story?”

Strange – a human sorcerer and warlock – raised an eyebrow, confused at the intromission. “A story? What kind of story?”

He was answered with a simple shrug, at first, before the kid explained fully, “ya know, fairytales. Or some r'lly old legends an' stuff.”

“Oh, like Disney’s stories!” Nath pointed out with a grin, though no one understood the bard’s reference, making him roll his eyes and go back to his drink.

“… What about you, Aedin?” Lorius – their fighter – turned his head at the blind female tiefling’s direction, his expression hidden behind the metal helmet, “Clerics are kinda specialized about this, right? Gods are quite old.”

“I mean– I know some stuff too, if we’re meaning _any_ old stuff,” Strange grunted, voice low, not meant to be heard.

Edgar, Aedin’s crow, moved his head like he was watching the fighter, eyes beginning to glow. Through the familiar’s eyes, the tiefling looked at Lorius. “I mean, yes, I know some stories, but I don’t think I should just tell these things–“

“But now you caught our attention,” Max – the other warlock and tiefling of their group – moved closer to the table, putting one of his elbows on it, fake pout on his lips that soon shifted to a challenging smirk. “C’mon, what can go wrong? It’ll be fun, trust me.”

The crow’s attention fixated on the male tiefling, before the glow in his eyes faded and a sigh escaped Aedin’s lips.

“Okay then. Gather up.”

The kid cheered, calling their other friends to sit by the table. Even without her familiar’s vision, the cleric could imagine the smile on Max’s face.

_Bastard_.

She took a moment to think about what to tell, arms braced over the table. “A long time ago, almost in the beginning of everything, there was a bright and colorful plane, looking just like ours. No one knew who the creator of this plane was, except for their secluded group of worshipers. But then, something happened.” 

Aedin made a quick pause, picking up her drink. She could hear dozens of heartbeats due to her blindsense ability, and the silence beginning to grow in the tavern was almost relaxing.

She continued, “these worshipers took all the light, color, and life-force from the plane and put it all into a citadel — that was named the Shining Citadel. No one could explain why they did that, but now all the place was left in the colorless dark, meant to be forgotten. Some people thought, _‘how could anyone **not** see this city if it’s so bright and the plane is pure darkness?’_, though no one ever found this place. Some believe that the people who go to these plane and never come back are the ones who found this Shining Citadel inside the deepest parts of this plane — now called the Shadowfell — and making it their new home. Some even believe that is a type of reward for those that are willing to take the risk and go so far away.”

_In, out. Rising, falling._ She could hear their breathings, feel the silence around the table, not so relaxing anymore.

“The light at the end of the tunnel,” Nath murmured, and Aedin was glad that the nothingness was interrupted, even for a moment, by the human bard’s voice — sometimes not even her voice was enough.

“This legend surged as an explanation of why the Shadowfell exists, but it’s more like a moral lesson,” she pointed out, letting her thoughts go back to their conversation, “that you can find a bright citadel if you’re willing to go through all the darkness hiding it.”

“Keep hope even in the worst situations,” the kid spoke up, a hand on his chin and a thoughtful expression on his face, “so— people tell stories that are important to them, that means that you keep hope about yourself, right?”

Aedin frowned under her blindfold, head tilting to the side. “About me?”

She felt Max’s heartbeat pick up before he spoke, “I think he’s talking about your vision.”

“Oh–” Aedin let out a small, fake, laugh. She rested her drink on the table. “Of course I do— How could I not, right?”

It was a lie – like all the other times people made questions like that – but hearing the heartbeat of a happy kid was better than her truth for now.


End file.
